


Well, it's better than death, eh?

by SilverHorizon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Healing, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Sex Talk, Sick Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 13:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21036719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverHorizon/pseuds/SilverHorizon
Summary: Set a few thousand years before the main storyCrowley hates dying, and he'd really rather avoid it if possible. But he gets help from the person he least expects it from.





	Well, it's better than death, eh?

**Author's Note:**

> Holy crap, I have not written fan fic in years. I have not UPLOADED fan fic in years. This account was like...abandoned.
> 
> Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, what have you done to me.

How did he always get himself in those situations, anyway?

Crowley knew that war, and violence, and people hitting each other with objects aspiring to bring an end to each other‘s lifes, that was something that just kind of belonged into the demonic reign. He had never really cared much for it, personally – he preferred to just leave those specific objects out and let humans take a look at their own reflection when they suddenly had the access to those tools, realizing how deep the abyss inside them really was – but alas, there were other demons too, and those preferred the more traditional methods.

One way or another, he‘d been dragged onto a battlefield.

Why Crowley was here now, he wasn‘t sure. This was the part where humans actually went at each other. No more demons needed. They were already angry. Spiteful, hateful, and angry. And ready to kill some other humans. Crowley wasn‘t exactly thrilled to see humans die. Being put into an army, there was no element of choice to it. No suspense, no individualism, no chances. What good was making people do evil when they didn‘t do it out of their own will?

He realized he didn‘t actually know how to, well, be in an army.

He was part of hell‘s army, sure, in a way, but hell‘s army wasn‘t gonna do anything until 6000 years passed and antichrist yada yada, and it was, what? Crowley wasn‘t gonna calculate it in his head right then and there, but it was still some millenia, so he had time, until he needed to learn how to act like a proper military demon. Or so he thought, but now a pretty notable army was marching at him with swords and all kinds of other imaginative weapons. He smirked thinking about how good humans were at coming up with ways of killing each other.

Then he realized that those ways of killing each other were about to be directed at him, and he stopped smirking.

Crowley struck a figthing stance. Not the first time he engaged in violence. This should be no problem. Were the odds against him? If he was human, absolutely. But he wasn‘t human. He was Crowley.

Then it all happened really fast.

Turns out, fighting against an entire army is different from fighting a single person.

Crowley stared at the sky, and tried to hold off the men raising their weapons against him by sheer willpower. While war was happening around him, there was a solid two meter radius around his body in which not a single person stepped, no matter of which allegiance. That was the precise amount of ground he could cover and focus on, while also trying to, well.

Not die.

Crowley didn‘t like dying. It could really get you in trouble with Hell. Worst case, he wasn‘t even gonna get a body back. Sure, in theory, it sounded easy, die a demon, get a new body, go into the world again. And for some of the higher ups, it sure as hell (no pun intended) was. But for Crowley, a demon who was known for slacking off and whose approach to spreading evil and the wicked on Earth weren‘t quite within what the higher ups were used to, it didn‘t look as dandy. No, dying was bad. And Crowley hadn‘t even done any bigger works to prove that yes, he was in fact a wicked demon capable of wicked wickedness to willfully wither the world‘s wise will to, well, do well. Nothing he was renowned for, yet. Other that one time he pointed out that there was a tasty fruit just right up on that one hill over there.

Someone stepped into the circle, turning the two meter radius into a one meter and 93 centimeter radius. Not good, Crowley thought. Not good.

Then he saw something glow in the sky. Wings, he realized. An approaching pair of wings. Wings that didn‘t belong to a bird, either, no, he knew very well who they belonged to.

All Crowley could think was ugh, now of all people, he was the one to come to really end it, huh?

Then the lights went out.

He could vaguely sense two arms picking up his weak, numb body. Gently, but also in kind of a hurry. His head rolled back into his neck, and he tried to get his eyes open to see who was taking him.

Someone was lifting him off the ground. Rescuing him. So it couldn‘t be the angel. No way it was the angel, the angel was an angel, and he did angely things, and rescuing a demon wasn‘t an angely thing. Pretty sure, Crowley thought, they‘d actually punish you for that in heaven, wouldn‘t they.

He got to himself as he was being laid in water.

Crowley blinked and found himself looking at clouds painted salmon by the evening sun. „Do not worry.“, said a gentle voice. „You are safe here.“

Crowley turned his head to the speaker. „So it was you, after all.“

The angel Aziraphale tilted his head. „What do you mean, after all? All I did was fly in and take you out of the battle. You seemed like you were, uh- well, it didn‘t really look like it was your day.“

„One way to call it. What are you gonna do with me now? Drown me? Splash me with holy water?“ Crowley sighed. „If you want to end it, please just make it quick, will ya? Getting a new body, it‘ll already be enough of a drag, might put me out a millenium even, so you really don‘t need to-“

„I came here to wash you.“, Aziraphale responded flat.

Crowley couldn‘t find any signs of deception or dishonesty in his eyes. Of course not, he was an angel. But then again, he‘d lied back then too, about the sword, so...so it wasn‘t beyond him, if it was…

Crowley turned and found himself to be surrounded by the cleanest, clearest lake he had come upon. This was not a coincidence, of course not, and it was not a coincidence that the angel knew a lake like this, because obviously he had been the one to even cause it‘s unbelievable cleanness, but with the crystal clear fresh water that was untainted by floating sand, slimy algae or other unfine things, Crowley had to admit, it was kind of pretty.

He felt fabric move over his arms. „If you could hold still.“, the angel asked patiently. „I‘m only here to help.“

Crowley didn‘t resist.

Water engulfed his wounds. Blood mixed into the lake, but somehow it felt good, Crowley could feel all the dirt and illness being washed off the body he was inhabiting, and he started having serious hopes he may even recover.

Aziraphale stopped exactly where Crowley had expected him to stop.

„Oh, uhm.“, he muttered. „I...excuse me. I didn‘t realize you, you had one.“

„It‘s a human body, angel. Of course it has one.“

„Well, yes, now that you say it that way, I suppose it was clear, but, Mr. Crowley, I did always think of you as that snake and then as that demon, I never thought of you in terms of someone who has such a thing as a – as a sex, you know, it didn‘t strike me-“

„Do you not have one?“

The angel flushed deep red. „I don‘t quite think this is appropriate to speak about, I mean, it is quite, well, quite lewd...“

„While you‘re looking at it?“

„I‘m averting my eyes, Mister Crowley. I promise.“

Crowley chuckled. „I‘m not the one who has a problem with it.“

Aziraphale stood there for a minute more, demonstratively looking anywhere else, then awkwardly shuffled around Crowley‘s floating body to continue washing him.

„But, uh...“, he started again.

„Hmm?“, made Crowley.

„You don‘t...“ Aziraphale coughed. „Well, you – you don‘t _use_ it, do you?“

„I mean, when I need to use the bathroom, but the best I can find is a tree...“

„You know what I mean, Mister Crowley!“

Crowley snickered. „Of course I don‘t use it. I know some demons like to make the effort and seduce humans, but I‘ve never taken an interest in that kind of stuff. Our people, we do really need to make an effort to get into se-“

„Yesyesyes, so do we, so do we, Mister Crowley, anyway, as we were saying, anyway, on that other...well, anyway.“ Aziraphale cleared his throat. „You seem quite awake again. Which is...good.“

Crowley laughed. „I‘m talking to an angel about my dick! This isn‘t awake, angel, I am absolutely delirious! Do you think I could even have this conversation otherwise?“ He started shaking. „I‘m probably going to die! I mean, maybe I can make it, kind of, but...it‘ll be a pain to deal with!“

Aziraphale turned a worried frown. „Are you in pain, Mister Crowley?“

„Please stop calling me that. I know we haven‘t exactly been bonding, but you have known me for over a thousand years.“

The angel nodded. „I – yes. Sorry. Are you in pain, uh...Crowley?“

Crowley closed his eyes. „Have you ever been stabbed multiple times from all sides, then had the remains of your functioning body slashed at with a multitude of weapons?“

„Is that what it feels like?“, Aziraphale asked shocked.

Crowley opened one eye. „It‘s actually just what it is, angel.“

„Oh.“

Crowley closed the eye again. „So there‘s a pretty good chance I‘m gonna die. Don‘t think this will hold me down, angel, I‘ll be back in your neck in no time, but...“

„Let me try to heal you.“

Crowley blinked. „You‘re an angel.“

„I know.“

„I know that you know you‘re an angel, silly. And you‘re also aware that I‘m a demon.“

„I know.“, Aziraphale repeated. „And what you‘re getting at, I...“

„If you help me, you‘re gonna be in deep trouble.“, Crowley interrupted. „If it works at all. I don‘t know whether an angel can even heal a demon.“

Aziraphale ran his hand over Crowley‘s chest. „I...I thought it would be worth a try. Your body is rather human. A-As we‘ve already pointed out, even! I can heal humans to full health, being an angel...and you‘re looking rather battered.“ He bit his lip and hesitantly added: „I can‘t bear to just watch...“

„Well, if you‘re-“, Crowley started, but interrupted himself with a coughing fit.

Aziraphale drew him closer. „Let me try. Please.“

„Knock yourself out, angel.“

Aziraphale closed his eyes, and gently stroked Crowley‘s wounds with his palm. Softly, but there was an ethereal power in his movement, that wasn‘t visible to the human eye, or any eye really, but Crowley could feel it. He could feel the cells of the body he was living in growing, multiplying. He could feel the bleeding stop. He could feel his skin slowly close up. Crowley could feel the angelic power, throughout all his body.

And it _hurt_.

Within a matter of seconds, Aziraphale‘s hands started feeling like glowing hot iron. Crowley bent backwards screaming, dipping his forehead underwater. The glowing hot iron turned into a thousand tiny glowing hot iron needles boring into his body whenever and wherever Aziraphale touched him even lightly. Like fire it spread across his skin and through his veins, robbing him of his senses. He shook his head from side to side. Water splashed into his mouth, left him choking on it.

The angelic power vanished.

Crowley noticed that the wounds Aziraphale had been tending to, despite the pain, had actually been healing.

„I‘m sorry...“, Aziraphale whispered. „I‘m sorry, I‘m sorry, I‘m sorry! I‘ll…“ His hands were shaking. „I‘m so sorry, I – I should stop, this isn‘t helping, I thought I could help, I couldn‘t just, just watch you die there, I couldn‘t do that, so I thought I‘d help, but...“

„Continue.“, Crowley interrupted his rambling.

Aziraphale took a moment. Then he gulped. „Mi- Crowley. Crowley...are you sure?“

Crowley coughed, and with one hand reached for the angel, the first creature he‘d ever stumbled across willing to help him. „Continue...“

And then Crowley said something he had never sincerely said in his entire life. Which was over a thousand years. So pretty long.

„Please.“, he said.

And it was a very sincere please.

Aziraphale nodded and took a deep breath. „I‘ll be careful.“

He hovered his hand over Crowley. Crowley braced himself.

Sure enough, the pain came.

His veins burned, as if his blood had turned to acid. He noticed that he was screaming. Still screaming. He didn‘t even hear himself anymore for the static in his ears. Somewhere, he could feel his voice going rasp but he couldn‘t stop it. His own voice, it felt like an abstract concept, so far away. The world, far away.

Somewhere, between the water, the static, and all the screaming, he heard the angel‘s voice. Gentle, calming…

But he couldn‘t understand a word.

Crowley woke up tucked in blankets and pillows. This was quite the new experience for him.

As a human, it is courtesy to at some point have been tucked into bed. It just happens as a natural event during childhood. Crowley‘s early life had been less of a childhood and more of a snakehood, and he‘d spent it in the Garden Eden, which he quickly had been kicked out of again, and then already he‘d been a mature individual and not a toddler. He also had no parents, since he was created, or whatever, he‘d come into being the same way all angels and demons did. All in all, there had never been neither a person to tuck Crowley into bed nor an opportunity for said already non existant person to do so.

Until now, that was.

His first reaction was to feel a little patronized and embarrassed, he, an adult, neigh, a demon even, being tucked into bed like a young child. His second reaction was to very quickly accept his fate and sink into the soft pillows, because from a pragmatic viewpoint, this wasn‘t such a bad situation.

Someone came running into the room. Must be the angel, Crowley thought.

„You‘re awake!“, the angel shouted cheerfully. „I‘m so glad! I was so worried!“

„You‘re getting quite worked up over someone who‘s supposed to be your mortal enemy.“, Crowley responded in a tone that was curious but not necessarily judgemental.

Aziraphale sat down at the edge of Crowley‘s bed. „Well, I did know you since the first week of the world‘s existence – maybe mortal enemies, it‘s not quite adequate.“

„Right.“ Crowley nodded. „Does that make us rivals?“

This was a new and mind blowing thought for Aziraphale. „I...that, I never even considered the possibility...“

„Well, what possibilities did you consider?“

No response, only a flustered look on the angel‘s face, that Crowley really didn‘t know what to make of.

Crowley realized he‘d gotten himself into one of those awkward silent moments, and decided to move along. As he sat up, he felt a flashing pain in his chest.

„Crowley, you need to be careful...“, Aziraphale quickly started, and gently pushed him back into the pillows. „Here, you rest. I will find some soup for you to have. With sage! It‘s quite good for the sick.“

„I‘m not sick.“, Crowley protested. „Technically.“

„Sage is also good for the wounded, I think.“

„Really, you don‘t need to...“

Aziraphale hurried out of the room before Crowley could finish his sentence.

Crowley sank back into the pillows. And what was he gonna do now? He vaguely remembered being washed in a clean pretty lake, it was all a blur. Nearly dying the entire time, it wasn‘t exactly helping his memory now. The angel had taken care of him, he remembered that much.

So Aziraphale was not a threat. Aziraphale had it in his head for some reason that he wanted to heal Crowley. Which, frankly, just didn‘t make sense for him.

Crowley stared at the ceiling. Or did it?

Maybe it was an angel thing.

No, he decided. It wasn‘t an angel thing. It was an Aziraphale thing. He remembered back then, when humans dumped down onto Earth, how he‘d secretly given them his flaming sword. He‘d broken the rules and lied to heaven about it. And now he was breaking the rules again. For the sake of helping someone.

Crowley found it hard to believe his own logical conclusion, but truly, it did seem like most likely, Aziraphale just wanted to help.

The angel came back rushing into the room. „I can‘t find any sage...“, he muttered.

„Really, angel, drop the sage.“

„Are you sure?“ Aziraphale stopped. „I really...“

„I‘m not hungry. I just need to rest.“, Crowley interrupted him.

Aziraphale thought on this for a minute, without moving his arms that had been frozen in place when Crowley had told him to stop. Then, he finally relaxed his shoulders, and sat down next to Crowley.

„So...how are you feeling?“, he finally asked.

„Tired.“, Crowley answered. „Even though I must have just slept forever. How long was it? A year? A century?“

„Uh, a night.“

„Oh. Right. A night. Alright.“ Crowley uncovered his chest to take a look at his wounds. He realized he still wasn‘t clothed.

There wasn‘t even a scar. The skin had healed perfectly. That an angel did miracles of healing wasn‘t a surprise, but for Crowley this also meant that all his pain and exhaustion came from the angel‘s energy still in his body, or however that worked. „Guess I just have to work through your angelic magic and I‘ll be good as new.“

The angel sharply sucked in air, shocked. „It – It‘s not magic! It‘s-“

„I mean, it‘s basically magic.“

„It‘s divinity!“, the angel protested. „And ineffability and etherealness and heavenly-“

„Same difference.“

The angel pouted.

Crowley covered his chest again. „I reckon my old clothes aren‘t any good anymore, huh?“

„Time to miracle new ones.“, the angel responded, still pouty.

Crowley grinned. „So you carried me here, all the way from the lake, without...“

„I didn‘t look!“, Aziraphale shouted. „I didn‘t look even once! I‘m an angel, you know! I-I have standards!“ He cleared his throat. „And there‘s no reason I should be interested in that anyway! It‘s not your real form anyway! Just a vessel!“

Crowley scratched his chin. „So what you‘re saying is, the reason you‘re not interested is not because you‘re a good angel that does neither have _a_ sex nor sex, no article, but because you‘d rather see my real form?“

Aziraphale hesitated. „That‘s not what I said.“

Crowley chuckled. „You‘re too easy, angel.“ He made another attempt at sitting up. „I know you have no interests like that. Demons are no different, you know.“

Aziraphale blushed in embarrassment. „No need to make fun of me.“

„What can I say? Demon.“

„Oh, curse me for helping you.“ The angel whiped hair out of his face. He looked frustrated, but he didn‘t leave.

Crowley gave him a good look. He hadn‘t changed a bit over the course of a millenium. Even in his human form, he looked angelic, not because he was blindingly beautiful or illuminating but because he looked like a good kid in the body of an adult, as if he could do nothing bad whatsoever. Shuffling around, awkward, and on occassion very obviously holding himself back from cussing. Aziraphale wasn‘t exactly the handsome and heroic type. But every other aspect of being angelic he had down to a T so much Crowley sometimes found him to be somewhat of a caricature.

But now Aziraphale was most definitely breaking the rules of heaven, same as he‘d done at the literal beginning of the world, so that was another part of him that had never changed and that might not be quite as angelic as he seemed.

Crowley liked that. But he made a conscious decision not to admit that to himself right now.

„Well, I‘ll...at least get you something to drink.“, Aziraphale finally said. „Your body needs to stay hydrated. And if you can still feel the angelic power in it, then I suppose it would be too risky to just...demon miracle it all away.“

„Sure, makes sense to me.“ Crowley grinned. „And you‘ll get to keep me around longer, too. Isn‘t that great?“

„Not really, no.“

„Don‘t pretend you aren‘t enjoying my company.“

Aziraphale turned away. „Well, I-“ He stood up. „No, I don‘t.“

Silence.

Aziraphale fiddled with his hands. „I-I mean, not to insult you! I mean. I don‘t mean to make you feel bad. Or offend you.“

Silence.

The angel turned around. „Or, or actually, I do. I do mean to offend you.“ He gulped. „At least a little bit.“

„You‘re as transparent as the air, angel.“

Aziraphale went red and turned away again. „Don‘t mock me.“, he said as he went to leave the room.

Crowley smiled. „Don‘t worry. We‘ll have plenty of fun.“

„I‘m – I‘m not having fun! I‘m just doing this because I...“ He paused. „I-I just can‘t watch someone else die, that‘s all.“

He sighed, and walked out of the room.

Crowley watched him leave.

„Aziraphale?“

The angel stopped in the doorframe, without turning around. „Wha. What is it?“

And then, Crowley proceeded to say something that he had never said in his entire life. A word a demon is never even supposed to speak in sincerity.

He said: „Thank you.“

Aziraphale didn‘t respond. He also didn‘t realize Crowley could perfectly see his lip twitch into a beaming smile as he left the room.

Not an angel thing, Crowley thought. That‘s definitely an Aziraphale thing.


End file.
